A Hell of a Lot of Excitement
by The Myth Rider
Summary: A ficlet for OCWatch 2017 Day 4: Excitement, Theme B: AU


_You are far too excited for this._

That's what Nikolai Reynaldé's girlfriend had told her, before the brunette had been deployed. The renowned medic, Angela Ziegler, had not quite approved of her anticipation to be sent to the field. Though, she never really did in any situation, if Nikolai was being honest.

But ever since zerg attacks began anew under Amon's control, the blonde's disapproval had grown.

Nikolai fully understood her love's reasoning, it was actually quite obvious. The zerg swarm was single-handedly responsible for the deaths of _planets_ —along with billions upon billions of human deaths. Even the enigmatic Protoss, with their mind-blowing advances in technology and military, weren't always successful in their strikes against the swarm.

But Nikolai would be damned if she didn't do everything in her power to blast those insectoid demons back into the hell they spawned from. Luckily for her, she was the pilot of one of the most advanced models of Viking aircraft that the Dominion had manufactured; probably because it was the lovechild of Rory Swann, Torbjörn Lindholm, and Cid Mizushima. That, and Nikolai's own skill and talent with the transformative aircraft, constituted to a sense of security for the pilot.

Though the brunette never dared to assume success until the last zerg lay dead and burning.

Which was why Nikolai was cursing herself fiercely, for not only had she assumed the zerg around them were dead...but so had her now screaming and dying comrades. The barrels of the twin gattling cannons that acted as the "arms" of her viking were glowing like embers as Nikolai held the trigger down, and had been for the past several minutes. How they hadn't melted into slag by now was beyond Nikolai, but she had more important matters to tend to—like the ultralisk that was bellowing fearsomely as it charged her.

Nikolai wasted no time; letting one finger off the trigger, only to press a button on her console with another. Instantly, a cacophony of clanging, shifting, and metallic humming sounded around her as the thrusters in the mech's underbelly began to push it into the air. Though most viking pilots only trained for one mode or another, Nikolai was one of the few who not only mastered both...but could switch modes on a dime in the middle of a firefight, and survive. The dangerously twisting metal around her, as newly settled turbines revved to life and the wings stiffened appropriately, didn't scare Nikolai in the slightest. She'd long since become one with her precious mech, and had learned how best to work with it (or "him", in her words).

The moment the shift into fighter mode was finished, Nikolai immediately "put the pedal to the metal", and shot off through the air and went straight into a bank. As she peered out of the window of her cockpit, the brunette grimaced; almost none of her unit remained, and the few who did would not last long. They'd long since sent a distress signal—the moment the battle so much as _seemed_ like it was going south, they'd SOS-ed the hell out of their transponder.

 _Where the hell is our backup?!_

Nikolai had no time to ponder, as without warning, multiple Hydralisk spines buried themselves in her viking's chassis. One actually broke the windshield, and the brunette stared at it in shock where it sat, embedded in her seat but centimeters from her face. Then she heard the hissing roar of a Mutalisk, but before she could react, an explosion shook her and the entire mech as a shot struck the side. It was Nikolai found herself all but choking on excitement as her viking started losing altitude.

Luckily for her, her baby was built for hellish situations like this; so she prayed for the chance to pay the engineering trio who'd built it for her back as she hit a big red button.

Almost instantly, two sets of hidden wings jutted out on the under-sides of her viking, and several flaps raised up all over as well. The mech's velocity immediately started going down, and as the flaps lowered but the extra wings remained, Nikolai just barely managed to ease herself and her viking into a controlled crash. As the mech gracelessly settled on the desolate landscape, the brunette also hoped she'd be able to thank the trio for the abundance of padding they'd included.

But as the silence following the crash was sliced through by loud and all-around hissing, Nikolai could've cried. Without looking, she reached out for the picture of Angela she kept in her cockpit at all times, and gazed sorrowfully down at it. Her blonde hair was shining in the sunlight of the image, her blue eyes shining as she smiled at the photographer...that having been Nikolai herself at the time.

Nikolai closed her eyes as she laid her head back, the helmet lightly butting into the headrest.

 _I'm sorry, Angela...the excitement has finally caught up with me, it seems..._

The brunette waited, then...waited for the carapaced demons to tear her beloved viking apart to get to her.

...suddenly a loud, _very familiar_ BOOM echoed, followed by inhuman screaming.

 _...wait...is...is that a siege tank?_

Nikolai instantly sat up and looked out her cockpit windshield—this time, she could've cried from sheer joy and relief. For not too far away, she spotted the beautiful sight of a line of tanks in siege mode, bringing the rain down on the horde surrounding Nikolai. A screeching sound brought Nikolai's eyes up, gracing her with the sight of a formation of Banshees. The anti-ground aircrafts swooped down not unlike their namesake, and let loose wave after wave of rockets that decimated the zerg below.

Though the banshees were effective, they weren't fast, and Nikolai smiled as she recognized the unique markings on one of the aircraft currently strafing the hell out of the zerg.

"Are any Dominion Units still alive down there?"

Nikolai could've have hit her intercom button any faster. "Fareeha Amari, this is Viking Pilot Nikolai Reynaldé, you _could not_ have come at a better time!"

A loud, bellowing laughter that wasn't Fareeha nearly deafened Nikolai as it burst over the intercom. "But of course, o' mighty Kalahan!" Reinhardt Wilhelm, siege tank extraordinaire. "None of us vant to be the ones to tell Angela her girlfriend finally got herself killed!"

Another new (but familiar and welcomed) voice sounded. "Luckily for me, I already called not it!"

Nikolai smiled, and started laughing from her old pal Lena's jab that got everyone else arguing over the intercom. The brunette didn't have to wait long before her old teammates located her position and set up a perimeter around her, quickly clearing out the now suffering zerg while giving her time to relax after...well, nearly dying. She also didn't have to wait long till another viking swooped down and gracefully transformed into assault mode, landing with a thud before the cockpit popped open.

A small, equally graceful form ran up to her own viking, quickly finding a hidden emergency latch on the outside of the cockpit. In a moment, the latch lifted off and Nikolai looked up at the bright smile of Lena "Tracer" Oxton.

"Come on now, luv," Lena said as she held one arm down for her. "The cavalry's 'ere, and we better be getting you back to your girl."

Still gripping the picture of Angela in her glove, the image itself flashed in her mind's eye as Nikolai eagerly raised her other arm to grip Lena's.

* * *

Merely a few hours later found Nikolai sitting on an infirmary bed, legs hanging off the side. She was in naught but a tight tank top and army-issued slacks, though quite a bit of her was wrapped in bandages. Despite the immense layers of padding in her viking's cockpit, the intensity of the battle still managed to beat her up. As well, she didn't notice that some of the Hydralisk spines had actually managed to pierce her suit and cut her. But being the girlfriend of an extremely talented medic had its advantages: such as supplements that included high poison resistance.

Nikolai was currently waiting for the inevitable, forearms resting on her thighs as she gazed blankly down at the infirmary floor. Angela hadn't been the one to attend her, rather it had been standard medics—though even they had done their utmost, afraid of what wrath "Mercy" would've wrought on them had they not healed her girlfriend properly. Fareeha and the rest of the gang had gone to fetch her once Nikolai was declared stable...and the brunette was making full use of the time by bracing herself.

Though focused on that task, Nikolai immediately took notice of the sound of frantic heel-clad steps that echoed in the halls outside of her room. She looked up just in time to watch the door slam open, poor thing nearly breaking off of its hinges (Reinhardt would be proud). Nikolai instantly met her angel's eyes, and it hurt her to see tears well in them. She was just about to stand and run up to the blonde, but as if sensing this, Angela beat her to it and in the blink of an eye, arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

"I-I...I th-thought you w-w-were dead!"

The anguished cry from Angela struck Nikolai deep. She closed her eyes tight as her brow furrowed, and she returned the blonde's embrace in equal measure, though her grip was around the medic's waist. They stayed in that position for a while–Angela struggling to stifle her sobs as she buried her face in Nikolai's hair, while the pilot rubbed her back gently and whispered soothing words into her ear. Promises she was okay, promises she was alive and well, and with Angela, and not planning on leaving again anytime soon.

The pair were eventually visited by the rest of their crew, and while Angela had provided polite replies, it was clear her only concern was the woman she refused to let go of (and who reciprocated). Even when their commander, Jack Morrison arrived, it was with an order that came all the way from James Raynor himself—the pair were to abstain from combat for a good month. At first both women objected, given their statuses as being some of the best of their respective fields. But Jack merely shook his head and left the room, and once he was gone, Ana Amari appeared in his wake...

...and reminded them of what had happened in Raynor's own past, that was similar to the situation they just endured, but with a far less happy ending.

As their objections died out as they remembered the tragic event, the older woman gave them a kind smile. "Besides, you two have had enough excitement for two lifetimes. Now go home, rest, spend some quality time together."

Her daughter, Fareeha, went to her side and offered them her own smile. "If we haven't already stopped this Amon character by the time you two get back, you can help us finish the job."

Nikolai and Angela glanced at each other, and smiled. The Amaris were right—they weren't the only best the Dominion had to offer. Their friends would take care of things till they returned to active duty...after all, it wasn't everyday that James Fucking Raynor ordered a leave of absence like this.

Though...they decided to loosely interpret "had enough excitement" when it came to what they did at home.


End file.
